


not today

by hongmunmu



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-19
Updated: 2016-09-19
Packaged: 2018-08-15 23:22:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8076994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hongmunmu/pseuds/hongmunmu
Summary: Marian was a woman who’d slashed her way to success.She'd gone too far. ( I literally despise that in-game, giving Fenris back to Danarius doesn't have any consequences with any of your companions, so here's a re-imagining of that scene. )





	

**Author's Note:**

> okay like don't even get me started on the anders approval+5 thing, regardless of how he personally feels about fenris he's possessed by a spirit of JUSTICE. there's no fukin way in hell anyone can tell me that's an in-character response and not just bioware trying to make unnecessary love interest rivalry at all times. also, aveline? she's a cop and she's been friends with fenris for nine years. she's not just gonna stand there.   
> as for isabela, i don't know if she'd be gutsy enough to stand against all those swords, but would she stay with hawke? hell no. come on bioware, you've got companions dying for a pot of ashes but no serious repercussions for selling a friend of ten years. jesus christ, bioware.

Marian shrugged. “If you want him, he’s yours.”

Fenris’s head snapped sideways while Isabela gaped. “You’d- what?!”

“Handing him back to _a slaver_? I…”

Marian looked at her, eyes ever-expressionless, giving nothing away. “Something to say, Isabela?”

Isabela bit her lip, looking around. Hawke had turned the attention in the room on her with one provocative sentence, and Isabela felt like there was a knife at her throat. Two, to be precise. She took a step backwards. “We’re _done_ , Hawke. Fenris, I … I’m sorry.”

He still had Justice and Aveline on his side.  He’d be fine. She hoped. Isabela took two more steps backwards and did what she was best at; she ran.

Aveline let out a sound of disgust, taking a protective step forward in between Fenris and Hawke. “You’re joking, right?”

Marian just stared at her blankly. Aveline drew her sword.

Anders felt rage bubble in his throat and the back of his mind. Two months ago, he actually might not have cared about what was happening before him. Yet after what he’d seen, what he’d heard-

_It is unjust._

Blue flames burst in crack patterns across his skin sending a gust of wind through the bar; a few abandoned bottles tipped over and somewhere far away was the sound of glasses breaking. Justice had eyes only for this evil woman who’d committed every level of cruelty and was about to perform one most unspeakable. Anders’ hatred of the Circle drew up into his mind like a bubble and burst, and he thought of the weeping, undone elven woman they had found several years ago in the abandoned slaver caverns. His eyes set ablaze, and returned to normal, and set ablaze again, voices alternating.

“ _You would dare enslave another?_ I’m hardly even surprised after what you did to Bethany, giving your own sister up to the Circle, _vilest termagant, immoral harpy-_ You’d actually sell him back? _To this foul corruption,_ to a Tevinter magister, everything you claim to hate, _to this defiler, this rapist, vulture, maleficar-”_

A cold force seemed to hit him in all directions, knocking the wind out of him, and it took Anders and Justice a moment to realise the magister had them under blood control, forcing he and Aveline beside him down to the ground.

“That’s quite enough of that,” Danarius said icily, a saccharine and obviously fake smile plastered across his face. “Lively friends you have here, messere. A spirit possession? Interesting.”

Fenris was crouched in a battle stance, sword held out threateningly but uncertainly, as though unsure whether an attack would come from Danarius or Hawke; his eyes were wild, flickering between them and Varania. His snarl and the harsh turn of his brow gave away nothing but anger, yet it was obvious enough to Anders that he was terrified. His breaths were fast and sharp, flaring his nostrils with each exhale, and his eyes were wide, not sure where to look. Desperately Justice channelled another burst of Fade energy to fight the blood magic but Anders only moved the tiniest inch, and the hex tightened, coming down like a fist until he was immobile again; he felt several capillaries burst.

“Now, Fenris,” Danarius chided, as if scolding a naughty child. “You realise you won’t be able to fight us all, yes?” As if signalled, several of his hirelings came out of their hiding places, scattered throughout the deserted bar. Fenris’s scared eyes darted between each of them before returning to Danarius.

“I fought my way through a Qunari attack. I can crush the hearts of a few pathetic Tevinters.” His voice was confident and unwavering as always. Danarius chuckled.

“There’s my little wild dog. Never going down without a fight.” He took a step forward, and a few of the thugs drew their weapons. “I suppose I’ll have to train you again.” Marian leaned back against a wall and folded her arms, as if planning on watching. Anders could’ve sworn he saw the faintest smirk on her face and Justice roared inside him again, straining against the blood magic. Danarius turned to address the bulk of his men.

“Capture him. Kill the other two.” He drew his staff and threw up a forcefield as Fenris ran at him, sword slashing wildly; _he should have known better_ , Anders thought desperately as the field threw the elf backwards across the room. Fear and rage were affecting his fighting. His heartbeat quickened as he strained against invisible bindings but only managed to move another few inches.

His attention was drawn by a crash across the room. Fenris was felling hireling after hireling but more kept coming at him like flies on a corpse, and despite the sheer difference in skill level Fenris was scared and overwhelmed. He had to do something. He couldn’t watch this. This injustice. _Justice, please._ The cracks of light split up his arms once more and the light blinded him.

His eyes snapped open.

“ _Anders!_ ”

Aveline was shouting at him, her hands on his biceps.

“She’s done! You’re done! Drop her!”

Anders looked at his hands, no longer glowing. An unconscious Hawke was dangling by her collar from his fists, blood streaked along her temple. He let go of her collar and she dropped to the floor in a crumpled heap. Good. He turned, nudging Aveline off him.

“What- what happened? Where’s Fenris and-” he craned his neck, looking around the bar. It was a mess, but by the looks of it the only people were dead or unconscious hirelings.

“The magister is dead,” she said gravely, indicating a body lying behind a table. “Fenris managed to finish him, thanks to you. I’ll admit, Anders, I’m not the biggest supporter of mage rights and all that – but if you and your spirit weren’t here today I would’ve had to watch one of my closest friends be forced back into slavery. And I probably have died, too. So, thank you.”

“That’s definitely the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

“Don’t get your hopes up. I still don’t like that you’re an abomination. But… I’m grateful. You won’t be hearing any complaints from me. For a while, at least.”

They shared a friendly if uneasy smile. They could work with this.

 Upon further inspection, Anders noted that Danarius’s throat was ripped out, rather than his heart. Unsurprising. Bastard probably didn’t have one. He turned round, surveying the damage that had been done to the bar. Varric wasn’t going to be happy.

“So… where did he go?”

Aveline’s face fell. “Back to his mansion. He… said he needed to go. I’m not surprised, after what Hawke did to him. This was a disaster.” Aveline turned to look at Hawke’s unconscious body, and wrinkled her nose disdainfully. “I don’t know what to do. I’ve half a mind to arrest her.”

Anders snorted. “Do it. She just tried to sell your friend into slavery.”

“I know, but…” Aveline sighed. “She changed, you know. Kirkwall changed her. She was different, when we first met.”

“That, and she’s Hawke?”

“That, and she’s Hawke.”

Aveline sighed again, rubbing her brow. Anders felt a pang of sympathy for her, glad he wasn’t the one who had to deal with this particular moral choice.

“So what else happened?”

The guardswoman shrugged, exhaling. “You glowed, and you killed things. I didn’t manage much of anything until Fenris got his sword on the magister. After that it was just clean-up. He didn’t need any help with the mage.” She paused, looking at Danarius’s body again. “Oh, and then he tried to kill his sister.”

“She had it coming,” Anders said angrily. “Little traitor.” No, no, that wasn’t right. _The sister was not to blame. She was but another of slavery and poverty’s victims._ Yes, Justice, I know, thank you, I was just getting there if you’d let me finish.

“Er, Anders?” Aveline was peering at him. “You’re muttering.”

“Right. Sorry.” He scratched his head sheepishly. “But, yes, you’re right. She wasn’t to blame.”

“I didn’t say that,” Aveline said slowly, confused.

“It’s – never mind.”

Aveline spared him an odd look before returning her gaze to Hawke. “Well, I stopped him and she ran. He’s angry at me, I suppose, but there we are. I won’t let him have that guilt at his feet on top of everything else.”

“That’s good, I think.”

Aveline nodded, and sighed. “I was considering checking on him once you calmed down, but somehow I doubt he wants to talk right now. For now, I still need to deal with _this._ ” She nudged Hawke with her boot.

“Maybe you should’ve just let Justice kill her,” Anders joked. Aveline gave a miserable half-laugh.

“Maybe I should’ve. But here we are.” A pause.

“Well,” Anders announced, uncomfortable about the awkward silence. “I suppose I’ll leave you to it, then. I trust your judgement on this, at least.” Aveline rolled her eyes.

“You’re too kind. Are you even alright to go through the city after…” she gave an odd hand gesture. “You know…”

“I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about.”

She groaned. “Oh, you know. Your possession nonsense.”

“Aveline! I didn’t know you cared,” Anders grinned. Aveline just groaned again, louder.

“Don’t go and see Fenris, you bloody jester. He’s already tried to kill his sister, Maker knows what he’d do to you.”

Anders smiled brightly. “Why on earth would I go to see Fenris?”

“Oh, off with you.”

Anders did, in fact, go to see Fenris after leaving the Hanged Man.


End file.
